


when you say stay with me tonight

by seoryoungs (inmylife)



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dirty Dancing Fusion, Dancing, F/F, Gen, Summer Vacation, dirty dancing but make it lesbians!: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22263565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmylife/pseuds/seoryoungs
Summary: i love thee with the passion put to usein my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.i love thee with a love i seemed to losewith my lost saints.— elizabeth barrett browning, "how do i love thee? (sonnet 43)"
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves/Kim Jiwoo | Chuu, Kim Jiwoo | Chuu & Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	when you say stay with me tonight

**Author's Note:**

> ngl this kinda started bc someone posted a "seven sisters as kpop girl groups" meme and my school got loona and dirty dancing is kind of a Thing at my school we watch it at orientation lmao so

Jungeun had her window open, and the wind blew to Chuu’s side of the car, ruffling her bangs. The afternoon air was warm and welcome in the stuffy car - it didn’t have AC, which in this day and age says a lot about Jungeun’s parents - but it was also messing up her hair. Most of Chuu’s hair was back in a ponytail, but the bangs were new, and so she’d left without bobby pins, barrettes, or headbands. A poor choice. 

“Seriously, thank you so much again for bringing me along,” she told Jungeun’s parents in the front seats. “I really appreciate it, Mr and Mrs Kim.” 

Jungeun’s mom turned around in the passenger seat to smile at Chuu. “Oh, it’s no trouble, Chuu. Really.” 

Chuu had always gone by Chuu. It might have been a babyish nickname for Jiwoo, her real name, but she’d never thought to mind. 

“Jungeun has always loved coming here,” Mr Kim added. “We knew you girls would want one last summer together, but we also knew she’d want to spend one last summer here. Bringing you along was a great idea on her part.”

Chuu turned to grin at Jungeun, who smiled back. She and Jungeun - best friends since elementary school - were parting ways in the fall, Jungeun leaving for college in Massachusetts and Chuu staying home on a gap year. This summer was their last hurrah as best friends - despite what Jungeun said, Chuu knew that everything would be different once Jungeun was in college. She’d have other friends. She’d be leaving Chuu behind, and not even symbolically. 

But Chuu didn’t like to think about that. 

So instead she giggled as the wind tore through her loose hair. She smirked all the while through listening to the news, because despite Jungeun’s earnest conversation with her father about travelers’ rights she knew that her best friend was pulling an opinion out of her ass to please her parents. She sang along to oldies songs on the radio once Jungeun’s mother intervened and changed the station, and basked in the compliments Jungeun’s parents gave her about her voice. 

It had been five hours of driving before Jungeun perked up in the seat next to her, and Mr Kim pointed out, “that’s the sign for the resort, Chuu.” She turned in her seat, allowing herself a moment to be transfixed by the showy billboard advertising beautiful views and recreational classes of all kinds. 

“God we’re gonna have such a good time,” Jungeun murmured to Chuu. “Can’t wait to show you everything.” 

“I’m excited,” Chuu replied, turning back to give Jungeun a winning smile. 

They arrived shortly after. The billboard hadn’t exaggerated - this place, Chuu thought, was beautiful. It helped, of course, that the sky was clear, with the few clouds that there were looking fluffy and white enough to be almost staged, but it wasn’t just the picturesque day, no. The lake water sparkled and the trees and bushes gleamed jade and the people all looked so happy. 

“Jungeun,” she stage-whispered, “are you sure this is real?”

Jungeun cracked up at that. “No, we’re not dead and this isn’t heaven. Apparently that’s what I thought when we first came, when I was little.” Chuu took a moment to laugh at the thought of preschooler Jungeun literally believing that she had died upon seeing someplace beautiful. 

When Jungeun’s parents got out of the car, a pompous-looking man in a very nice suit walked over to them. “Ah, hello,” he greeted, and… yeah, his voice sounded just as rich as the rest of him looked. “Lovely to have you back, Mr Kim, Mrs Kim, Jungeun. And who’s…?”

“Ah, this is Chuu - Jiwoo,” Mrs Kim hastily corrected. “She’s a childhood friend of Jungeun’s. We invited her up with us this year.”

Chuu gave the man a winsome smile as he shook her hand. “Jaden Jeong,” he said to Chuu by means of introduction. “Head of staff, and longtime friend to this family. Pleasure to have you joining us.”

“I’m pleased to be here,” she answered, poised. 

As Mr Jeong walked off, presumably to greet other longtime guests, Jungeun smirked at Chuu - lovingly, teasingly. “You smile at everyone,” she said. 

Chuu gave Jungeun a smile in response. “You love me.”

“I do,” Jungeun agreed. She offered Chuu an arm, and Chuu took it - the two of them started skipping. “Okay, so the house that we stay in is in a really shady part of the mountain - shady as in trees, not shady as in sketchy people, sorry - so you’re not gonna get enough sunshine, sunflower.”

Chuu’s used to this ribbing. She’s been generous with her smile since probably as long as she’s known Jungeun, and Jungeun’s teased her about it for almost as long. 

“I don’t need the sun,” she answered Jungeun, her voice airy. “I’m my own sun!”

“God,” muttered Jungeun, shaking her head. Her blonde hair swished in front of her as she did, and Chuu unlinked her arm from Jungeun’s to tuck Jungeun’s hair behind her ear. 

“You’re such a sap, such a lesbian sap,” Jungeun chastised her, no real intention to it. “How am I supposed to survive two entire months with you-” 

All Chuu did to respond to that was smile again. 

* * *

Dinner that night was interesting, to say the least. 

Chuu had packed fancy clothes. She knew the kind of people Jungeun’s family ran with - a good half of her suitcase was “business casual” attire. But she still felt out of place in that dining room, a mix of cheap and overdressed if that was even possible. Her dress - white and lacy, sleeves mid-length, a black ribbon tied around her throat and trailing down to her chest - somehow didn’t feel as refined as Jungeun’s bright-red jumper. She felt fake. 

“You look fine.” 

Chuu and Jungeun had known each other long enough that Jungeun always knew what Chuu was feeling. She knew Chuu well enough that she could easily read Chuu’s admittedly already open-book face. 

“Don’t worry about it. My family’s just overdressed. If anything, we’ll be the ones getting looks, not you.”

Chuu wasn’t sure how much she believed Jungeun about that, but stopped fidgeting with her silverware for the time being. The silverware looked just as expensive as the silverware at Jungeun’s house, maybe even more. Chuu’s family was far from poor, but she was solidly middle-class, and Jungeun and her family were solidly not that. 

The napkins here were  _ embroidered _ . The logo of the resort was stitched neatly onto the bottom left corner. 

“Stop worrying about it,” Jungeun told her again. 

The waiter had come over, smiling amiably at Jungeun and her parents - and warmly at Chuu, too. That made her feel nice. 

“I’m Yongguk,” he said, while handing out menus - on thick, creamy paper, not laminated at all - to the table. “I’ll be your server tonight. I’m also staff in many other places around, so you’ll be seeing much of me.” 

The food was fancy. Chuu loved every bite of it - rich and flavorful, and containing a lot of fruits and vegetables that Chuu was sure she wouldn’t be eating if she were home right now. She cherished every taste - especially the strawberries, already her favorite fruit and this time sweet and juicy, exploding like a supernova in her mouth.

“Stop,” Jungeun elbowed her. “You look almost erotic.” 

“Don’t let your parents hear you,” Chuu whispered back. 

Jungeun had warned her early on that her parents would be pretty watchful of what she did while they were here, but not so much to Chuu. So, Chuu’s options were either to make friends on her own, or to hang out with the other fancy kids. Chuu hadn’t needed Jungeun to tell her this. She’d known Jungeun and her family for too long to expect much less. 

After dinner there was a party. The kind of party with live jazz music and a corner table with fondue. Chuu looked longingly at the strawberries. She had grand plans to dip them in the chocolate fountain, with Jungeun by her side of course, as soon as her friend got the requisite amount of socializing in. 

They ran into Yongguk, the waiter, with Jungeun’s parents. Mr Jeong was with him - he explained that Yongguk was his nephew. “He’s at Yale for pre-med,” Mr Jeong informed them proudly. 

“Well, Jungeun’s going up to Mount Holyoke in the fall,” Mrs Kim replied. Jungeun was visibly pleased - her mom had sounded proud, too. 

“I’ll be studying International Relations,” she volunteered. 

“And you, Jiwoo?” asked Mr Jeong. 

“Oh, I’m taking a gap year,” she answered, feeling more self-conscious than before. “I couldn’t decide on a school.” 

“Admirable,” commented Mr Jeong, in a manner that suggested he didn’t actually think so. 

The music got louder just then, and everyone’s attention turned to the center of the room. 

“Those are the two new dance instructors,” Mr Jeong informed them. “Kim Donghan and Ha Sooyoung.”

The two were ballroom dancing, and Chuu found herself transfixed by Sooyoung. The older woman’s movements were graceful, refined, swan-like. 

Jungeun elbowed her. “Ha. Gay.” Chuu glared back.

The dancers moved fiercely, energetic and full of fiery passion. After a bit, though, their movements picked up and Mr Jeong made a throat-cutting motion at them. 

“Why’d they have to stop?” asked Jungeun. 

“This is a family establishment,” Yongguk told her. “Their dancing, sometimes… veers on inappropriate.”

“I thought it was just fine,” Chuu piped up. 

“It would have devolved. They’re opening the dance floor to everyone now; care to join me?”

Yongguk offered his arm. He was an alright dancer, but he kept making comments to Chuu about her lack of plans for college. 

“Oh, I got in places,” she found herself saying defensively. “It’s just that none of them really appealed to me.”

“Where, then?”

“Ithaca,” Chuu named, “and Oberlin. Quinnipiac. Liberal arts schools like Jungeun’s.”

“Liberal arts,” Yongguk repeated. Chuu got the impression that in his mouth, the words felt distasteful. 

She was glad when she managed to hand him off to Jungeun (prompting a glare from her friend and a subsequent grin in Jungeun’s direction) and head for the fondue. She loitered by the table for probably longer than was appropriate, but no one seemed to mind. 

Jungeun finally found her still eating strawberries. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get out of here. I have something way more fun to do.” 

“But your parents,” Chuu said. (“But my strawberries,” she did not say.)

“I told them that I’m showing you some of my favorite places around here. Which isn’t exactly untrue.” Jungeun flipped her hair over her shoulder - or tried to, a strand of it got stuck in her earrings. Chuu laughed at her. 

Jungeun offered Chuu a hand. They were that kind of touchy best friends, always holding hands and cuddling, even kissing when they were excited. “Come on, let’s go.”

* * *

“So why do I have to carry a watermelon?” Chuu asked skeptically, struggling to haul the melon up what seemed like a neverending flight of stairs. “And, more importantly, why don’t you?”

“It’s a rite of passage.” Jungeun cut a smile in Chuu’s direction. “I had to do it myself, the first time.”

“...What?”

Loud music, more modern than what had played at the earlier social (Chuu was refusing to call it a party, because she hadn’t had very much fun), blared from whatever direction they were headed. She started to bop her head to the rhythm. 

“Good, see? I knew you’d like it.” Jungeun gained a spring in her step after seeing that.

“Where are you taking me?” 

A few more endless flights of stairs (and one very-nearly-dropped watermelon later), Jungeun threw open the door to what she’d informed Chuu was the staff dorms. The music was clearly coming from inside, and the building was old and seemed a little dingy but nevertheless had charm, like the pictures Jungeun had shown Chuu of the dorms at her college. 

Through the open door, Chuu saw dancing. 

Modern dancing, stuff that’s current and not at all stuffy like the contained ballroom dancing they’d experienced earlier. People their age, in casual clothes (now Chuu knew how Jungeun must feel most times, because everyone else is in T-shirts), having fun. 

It occurred to Chuu that this still didn’t explain the watermelon, but when a very tall guy around her age bounded up to the two of them with the enthusiasm of a puppy and said, “oh. You carried a watermelon,” and took it without a second thought, she decided that it’s probably an inside joke that Jungeun somehow knew about and shrugged it off. 

“Hi, Jungeun!” Jungeun called after the tall guy, jokingly. “I missed you, Jungeun! How was your year, Jungeun!”

“Consider: Watermelon!” Hyunbin shouted back. 

A tall girl approached them then, with long hair as blonde as Jungeun’s and big hoop earrings. “Jungeun. Who’s this?”

“Chuu! My best friend! I’ve told you about her, you know I have.” 

Chuu felt a whole lot of warm inside hearing Jungeun talk about her like that. 

“Oh, cool. Hi! I’m Jinsoul.” Jinsoul, despite her elegance, appeared to have a lot of energy barely contained inside. “I’m the swim instructor for the kids here. And I’m the one who first brought Jungeun up here,” she added. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Jungeun confirmed, after Chuu’s questioning look. “She was trying to carry too many watermelons. So I carried a watermelon.”

“You carried a watermelon,” Chuu repeated, everything suddenly making sense. “Okay.”

“Yeah.” Jungeun shrugged. “Anyway, this place is cool. First came up two years ago. “We dance, we make out, we have a good time.” 

“Does all the staff come?” Chuu asked, looking around warily for Yongguk. She hadn’t gotten the shiniest impression of him. 

“No,” Jinsoul answered, “and thank heaven for that. Not the public faces of the club, the servers, the kids who grew up here and just need something to stick on their resumes before college.” 

“Who needs college,” a boy passing behind them tacked on. 

“Fuck yeah, Sanggyun!” Jinsoul cheered. Chuu smiled. Here, Jungeun was the one out of place. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna go dance,” Jungeun informed her. “Hang out. Make some friends.” Jinsoul took her hand and the two girls disappeared into the crush. Chuu barely had time to say Jungeun’s name, forlornly a bit, before they were out of sight.

“Dammit,” Chuu muttered. Alone again. 

“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind here. “Sorry, but - are you new here too?”

“Yeah.” Chuu turned, a little startled. “I mean, I’m not staff, my friend brought me, but - I don’t know anyone either, so.”

“Oh. Okay.” The girl behind her seemed young, not in body or face but in demeanor. “I’m Yerim. I’m new this year. Um. Nice to meet you?”

Chuu smiled immediately. She didn’t have too many talents, but one of them was putting people at ease with that smile Jungeun was always complaining about. “I’m Chuu. Well, Jiwoo, but everyone calls me Chuu. Nice to meet you, Yerim.” 

They chatted for a little while, but it was clear Yerim wanted to dance, so Chuu directed her towards Jungeun and Jinsoul. She seemed sweet, Chuu thought. 

Her thoughts were interrupted, though, when the door slammed open for the first time since Chuu had arrived with Jungeun. The dancers, Sooyoung and Donghan, exploded into the room, bringing the same energy that Mr Jeong had called off earlier in the night. And they didn’t ballroom dance either, no - they grinded on each other, hands on hips, midriffs close, eyes locked, skin touching skin. 

They had fun with the rest of the room too, of course, but their eyes were only on each other. 

“They’re such a cute couple,” Yerim piped up, suddenly next to Chuu again. 

“They’re actually not.”

Chuu and Yerim turned. It was Sanggyun, the guy who’d said “who needs college” earlier. 

“I’ve known Donghan for years. Sooyoung’s like his sister. And if I’m being honest, I don’t think either of them bat for the same team.”

“Like, they’re gay?” asked Yerim. Chuu laughed. 

“Yeah, Yerim, he means it like they’re gay.”

“Of course I don’t know,” Sanggyun backed up, waving his hands in a “forget it” gesture. “But you work two years doing home improvement with a guy, you get an impression.”

“So you know each other outside of here?” Chuu intended to gather as much information as she can. 

“Well, yeah. I got him this job,” explained the older man. “Couple years ago, when Sooyoung’s last partner quit out of nowhere.” 

Chuu watched the other woman for a little while longer. “She’s beautiful.”

* * *

The next day came and went, and then it was two days since they arrived, and Chuu still couldn’t get Sooyoung out of her head. 

“We should go to a dance class,” she suggested to Jungeun while they’re walking back from lunch. 

“Ha. Gay,” was Jungeun’s response. Chuu, in her infinite kindness, didn’t bring up the heart eyes Jungeun was making at Jinsoul the other night. “She’s a dancer even when she’s not here, you know. Performs under the name Yves.” 

“Really?” Chuu was incredulous, and actually stopped in her tracks for a second. 

“Well…” Jungeun fudged. “There’s a lot of rumors about her. Unlike Donghan, she’s pretty… well, she keeps to herself. People say a lot of things. People say she’s the half-sister of Lee Sunmi. Don’t know how much truth there is to any of it,” she concluded. “I wanted to mess with you a little.”

“Fuck you,” Chuu told Jungeun, quiet enough that none of the elementary-age kids running around them could here. They passed the lake, where Jinsoul was wearing a not at all revealing one-piece, and Chuu had to slow down to accommodate Jungeun, who had decided her eyes needed to take in every detail of Jinsoul’s betta-blue swimsuit. 

“Gay,” she ribbed when Jungeun started walking full speed again. 

“Fuck you.”

“So where are we going?” Chuu’s sneakers made an interesting noise on the gravel path. It wasn’t a bad noise, necessarily - just interesting. 

“We’re going to hang out with my other friends. The ones my parents know about,” Jungeun clarified. “Chaewon and Heejin. They’re cool.” 

“I…” Chuu shrugged. “Okay.”

Chaewon and Heejin were nice enough, and Jungeun clearly liked them. But Chuu found herself bored. Chuu found herself daydreaming. About dancing. About Sooyoung. 

“I’m gonna go see what else there is,” Chuu told Jungeun, interrupting her friend’s conversation with Heejin and Chaewon. Jungeun nodded absently, and Chuu took off. 

She found herself at the large gazebo overlooking the lake, where it was advertised that Sooyoung would be teaching a salsa class in about fifteen minutes, according to Chuu’s watch. She would do this, Chuu decided. 

The class turned out actually to consist of a number of senior citizens, Jungeun’s mom, and Chuu. She and Mrs Kim gave each other some awkward smiles throughout the class, which wasn’t actually very informative. Well, the older folks certainly seemed to have found it alright - but Chuu didn’t have very much fun. Her feet got stepped on too many times for her to truly enjoy it. She couldn’t concentrate on Sooyoung, not really.

She left with Mrs Kim. “Well. Did you have fun, Chuu?” the older woman asked as they headed back to their cabin. 

“I certainly got my workout,” she joked. She wasn’t wrong - even though most of what they’d done was basic steps and a funny circular conga line, she was tired by the end. “I don’t know if I’d do it again, though.” 

“Me neither,” Mrs Kim agreed as they passed the beginnings of a creek. The two of them had to speak louder to be heard over the water as it rushed downhill over smooth, dark rocks. “To think, we’ve been coming here for years and I’ve never had a dance class with that woman. I know she’s been here a while.”

“What did you think of her?” Chuu asked. Not that she sought Mrs Kim’s approval, but… she was nevertheless curious.

“I think that Mr Jeong was right,” said Mrs Kim decisively. “The way she moved… there’s something less appropriate trying to come out. But I admire her for forcing it down.”

“Oh.” Chuu responded. She looked up at the birch trees, pondering.  _ She _ hadn’t thought Sooyoung was that sexy. 

Well. The word “sexy” had sprung to mind, unbidden. But the fact remained that she thought Sooyoung’s dancing was just fine. 

She shook her head, trying to get the thought out of her mind like water out of her ears. 

“Are you alright, Chuu?” asked Mrs Kim.

“I’m fine,” answered Chuu absently. “Just ready for dinner.”

* * *

After dinner - another froufrou affair that included salmon, tender and rich and bathed in a sauce that Chuu found awfully thick and sweet to be putting on fish - Chuu ran into Yerim, and they chatted for a while before Yongguk walked over to the two of them with a confident smile. 

“Do you guys want to come look around the kitchens with me? They’re so creepy when there’s no one in there.”

“Sure!” replied Yerim, instantly perky. “I’m down for something creepy.”

It was past sunset, Chuu noticed, which was saying something at the height of summer. How long had she been here talking with Yerim, that she hadn’t noticed the sun setting?

As they walked to the kitchens, a number of bats flew overhead. 

“I hate bats,” said Yongguk.

“No!” Yerim protested. “They’re cute. They’re so cool - they’re my favorite animal, actually, I know so many fun facts about bats.” Chuu would laugh at Yerim for this, but she went through a phase where she memorized all the different breeds of penguin. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. 

The kitchens truly were creepy with the lights off, with no one in them. Then again, Chuu in her three days at the resort hadn’t been back here anyway - rows upon rows of ovens and burners and refrigerators, interspersed with granite counters and blocks of knives and cylinders full of ladles, cabinet after cabinet and drawer after drawer filled with everything the cooks needed to cater to the resort’s clientele.

Yerim was still talking about bat facts, eager to impress Yongguk for some reason Chuu couldn’t fathom. Yongguk was still pretending to be interested. Chuu hung back… as much as she loved Yerim and wanted to be supportive and encourage her and her bat facts, she couldn’t be in the middle of that much energy. 

She heard something. A sniffle? A sob? A deep, harrowed breath? She wasn’t sure. Either way, Yongguk and Yerim didn’t notice, still deep in conversation about bats. 

Chuu turned towards where she’d heard the sound, and that’s when she saw her. Sooyoung. Curled into a ball, sitting back up against some ovens. Sooyoung looked up at the noise the three of them were making, and her eyes met Chuu’s. 

They stared at each other for what seemed like an age. Chuu was stuck on Sooyoung’s tear-streaked face, shining in the light of the three-quarter moon coming through the window. It felt cold in the kitchens, all of a sudden, even though actually it was hot. 

Chuu forced herself to be the first to look away. 

“Wait, Yerim,” she said, “don’t you have that early shift tomorrow?” 

“Huh?” The younger girl turned to look at Chuu, who had already set off towards the exit. “I really don’t remember… oh, now I’m worried. Where did I say it was?”

“Um… the tennis courts,” Chuu improvised. 

“Shit,” Yerim murmured. “Yongguk, I’m sorry, but I really should go - just to check the schedule, you know -” 

“No, I understand,” said Yongguk. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk you back to the schedule board. I’ll see you later, Jiwoo,” he added. 

“Yeah, see you,” Chuu responded. The moment the other two were out of sight, Chuu started running. 

Up the endless stairs. Through the woods. Careful, she couldn’t trip, not now, not in these shorts - her flip-flops made a funny sound against the path. Her hair, left down, stuck to her face by the time she reached the staff cabins, and a stitch cut into her side from all the uphill running. She was sure she looked like a crazy person when she flung open the doors and ran up to Jinsoul, saying, “I need to - we need to find Donghan” - she felt like one, too. 

“What - Chuu, honey, I-”

“Sooyoung, um, in the kitchens,” Chuu panted to Jinsoul in as loud a whisper as she dared. 

Jungeun appeared at Jinsoul’s side a moment later, taking Chuu’s hands in hers. “Chuu, what’s wrong?” 

“Just find him, I, we need to find him.” 

It took five minutes that felt like a year for one of them to find Donghan - Jinsoul finally did it, pulling him along by the hand with Sanggyun close behind. The five of them congregated on the front porch, music blasting from the inside but muted, both from the walls of the house and from Chuu’s single-minded panic. 

“Chuu.” Donghan said to her, eyebrows pulled tight together. “What’s wrong?”

“Sooyoung’s crying in the kitchens, she looked really scared, I think something’s really wrong,” Chuu explained, words spilling out. 

Donghan almost instantly looked as scared as Chuu felt. “Shit.”

“What?” asked Sanggyun. 

“Sooyoung doesn’t cry,” Donghan informed them. “I’ve never seen it. Ever.”

Then he took off downhill. The others didn’t need to be told to follow. 

* * *

“Why would you do that?” Sooyoung exploded to Chuu, tears choking her anger and making it more desperate than anything else. “Why would you - why would you get him, why would you  _ bring your friends _ , why why  _ why _ …” 

“I didn’t know what else to do…” Chuu’s voice sounded as timid as she felt, right then. Jungeun placed a hand on her shoulder. It was warm and it was comforting, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Sooyoung.” Donghan said, soft and gentle, quiet but it still echoed against the cold metal and high ceiling. He gathered her into his arms, and she sobbed and sobbed.

He let her be for a while, during which time Sanggyun, Jinsoul, Chuu, and Jungeun stood there awkwardly, uncertain. But after a few minutes he asked her, “but what happened?”

“He can only come on the fourteenth,” Sooyoung said in a very small voice, so that Chuu had to strain to hear and even then she wasn’t quite sure she’d caught it. “That’s the only - that’s the only day he can -” She dissolved again, and Donghan… let her go, and sat back on the balls of his feet. 

“Well, that’s, um…” 

“The fourteenth,” Sanggyun broke in. “That’s the day of the hotel gig you were talking about, isn’t it?” 

“The Yes Hotel,” Donghan confirmed. “We do it every year. It’s big publicity for the resort - if we don’t do it we lose our jobs.” This prompted another wave of tears from Sooyoung. “Hey, it’ll be alright. We’ll figure it out,” he murmured to Sooyoung, turning back to her. 

“But what’s - what’s Sooyoung doing on the fourteenth?” asked Chuu. Sooyoung glared at her, Sanggyun, Jinsoul, and Jungeun seemed to be judging her for prying, and Donghan just looked sad. 

“Chuu, maybe -” Jungeun started, but then - 

“I’m pregnant,” Sooyoung spat to the assembled group. “There’s this doctor I know, kind of, and he said he can give me an abortion but only on the fourteenth. If I keep the baby, I’m fucked, but if I don’t do this gig, I’m fucked. So.”

Silence. 

“I mean, could someone else fill in her part?” Sanggyun asked. 

“Don’t look at me,” Jinsoul said immediately, stepping back and putting her hands up almost on instinct. “I know for a fact I have to do an updated lifeguard training that night, and well… my job rides on that too. I’m sorry, Donghan, but I can’t.” 

“Jungeun, don’t you dance?” Chuu murmured. “You could maybe…” 

“I used to,” Jungeun affirmed, “but that’s not the point here. My parents will notice if I’m gone for the night - and there’s practice time I have to take into account. Even if I say I’m with Heejin and Chaewon, they’ll check with their parents, and if I say I’m with someone else they’ll -”

“Don’t worry about it,” Donghan told her. 

Suddenly, everyone was looking at Chuu. 

“You don’t have to…” Donghan said doubtfully. “I just, I don’t want for any more people to have to know.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Chuu agreed. The atmosphere of the room, once heavy, suddenly cleared, and it felt to Chuu like something had slotted into place.

She just wasn’t quite sure what. 

* * *

First dance lesson, Chuu thought to herself. She stared down at the wood floor of Donghan’s staff cabin self-consciously, awkward in her sneakers and jean shorts and pigtails. Donghan was shirtless and sweaty in the June heat, and Chuu remarked to herself that if she were another girl she might have been very turned on in this moment. 

As it were, Chuu was much more distracted by Sooyoung’s high-waisted jean shorts and puffy top. Sooyoung was there to supervise - she and Donghan, Chuu had been informed, had already learned the whole routine together, so the only person who didn’t know it back-to-front was Chuu. Sooyoung would demonstrate as well, and help Chuu learn from her mistakes. 

She felt nervous. She felt like she was under a microscope - performing in front of crowds she could do no problem, but performing in such an intimate setting had her giggly and nervous. 

“So we have a month to get this down,” Donghan informed her. “Think you can do that?” 

“I…” Chuu rubbed one leg against the other, worried. “I can do it.” 

Donghan smiled. He had an easy smile, and kind - as nervous as Chuu was, he made her feel that much more at ease. 

“All right,” he said. “Move with me.” 

He swayed side to side. Chuu mirrored him. 

“Okay.” Donghan prompted Sooyoung, and the older woman hit a button on the speaker. A song came out - the song they were doing for the show, Chuu assumed. “Now tap the beats with me. One, two, three, four.” He tapped on his chest, at his collarbone just below his shoulder. 

She mimicked. Chuu felt the rhythm naturally - she did sing, she had done chorus all throughout high school. It wasn’t as though she was a total beginner. 

“Fantastic,” Donghan murmured. She looked up at him and the thought came to her again - any other girl would have been in love with him by now. But not her. “Now move with me.”

He started dancing. Well, his feet did - a one-two-three pattern, out-in-step-rest. Chuu followed. 

“Excellent.” 

Sooyoung wasn’t there always, but she was there often. She surprised Chuu by showing up on the hottest, most humid day so far, when Chuu was wearing just her bra and the shortest shorts she owned, tee shirt and shoes discarded in a corner. 

She felt exposed. But why should she? She and Sooyoung had the same bodies, after all - and Donghan was almost always shirtless anyway, so it shouldn’t even matter. 

“No, your arms - spaghetti arms again,” Sooyoung chastised from where she leaned against the full-length mirror in the dance studio, which they’d moved to from Donghan’s room for its spaciousness. “Arms up. Don’t make me come over there and correct you. Watch your posture - and stay out of his dance space, you have your dance space and he has his - oh, whatever.” Sooyoung huffed, and for a moment Chuu thought the criticisms were over, but then she heard footsteps behind her. She startled as Sooyoung’s somehow-cold hands forced her elbow up; clearly frustrated, Sooyoung had evidently decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. 

More than matters, it seemed - Sooyoung’s hands found their way to Chuu’s waist, a cold, dry shock against Chuu’s warm, tired, and bare skin. “Hold your frame,” she said into Chuu’s ear, and Chuu straightened obediently. 

“Okay, again,” Donghan encouraged. 

Sooyoung stayed behind Chuu the entire time. When she dared look up at Donghan (and, consequently, away from her feet), she noticed Donghan and Sooyoung making eye contact above her head. 

Then she’d trip. Because she needed to pay attention to her feet. 

There were, of course, a few incidents that were more funny than nerve-wracking. There was the night when they used the stage in the room where there’d been the party that first night. Donghan was trying to get Chuu to look into his eyes every time she made the turn, but she ended up focusing too hard on that and not hard enough on balancing, so that practice ended with her and Donghan’s foreheads smashing together. There was also the Saturday morning where, while going over the intricacies of the couple movements with her, she got ticklish and couldn’t stop laughing whenever Donghan brushed over her arm. Chuu got better - she could practice on her own, now, in front of a mirror or making a reluctant Sanggyun play her partner. She started practicing in high heels. 

Sometimes, Sooyoung would dance with her instead of Donghan. Chuu liked those times - Sooyoung’s hands were soft where Donghan’s were rougher. And when she and Sooyoung made eye contact, something like lightning shot down Chuu’s spine. She felt like her posture was better - like she was dancing better entirely. Like she had to perform her best with Sooyoung. 

“Come on,” Donghan griped at Sooyoung one day as they practiced in a huge shed full of unused furniture (Chuu had learned to never question the locations in which they practiced). It was raining, and Chuu was in leggings for the first time in weeks. “I don’t have to get your permission to teach her the lifts, Sooyoung, come on.”

“She’s not ready,” Sooyoung rebutted lazily. “She’ll only hurt herself. Or you.” 

They had stopped mid-routine so that Donghan and Sooyoung could hash out this argument, and Chuu winced as the track clicked off. They just kept going and going, talking in circles around the issue. And around Chuu.

She’d had enough. 

“There’s only a week left and you keep griping about how I can’t do lifts yet, but I need to learn them sometime. If you don’t think I’m ready, what  _ will _ make me ready then, huh? Why don’t  _ you _ teach me, instead of sitting here and yelling at Donghan?” 

Chuu felt braver in that moment than perhaps she ever had. She and Sooyoung had locked eyes, and Chuu stood over the other woman, staring down fiercely to where Sooyoung was sprawled on the floor. 

A thousand feelings flowed through Chuu then, mirrored by the thousand expressions warring for dominance on Sooyoung’s face during the four solid seconds they stared at each other. 

“Fine,” Sooyoung snapped, suddenly standing. “You want to be ready? I’ll make you ready.” And she grabbed Chuu by the wrist and dragged her out into the rain. 

Chuu looked back at Donghan helplessly, but she didn’t really protest. Donghan just shrugged and waved. Chuu grimaced back. 

* * *

Sooyoung took her to a car. 

Rusty. Blue. Toyota. Dented. Not the kind of car Chuu would have associated with Sooyoung - to be honest, she hadn’t really thought of Sooyoung owning a car before at all. 

The rain was coming down in sheets, fierce and hard on Chuu’s bare shoulders in her wide-necked top. “Fuck,” Sooyoung murmured as she yanked on the driver’s side door handle. 

Chuu timidly approached a little closer. Sooyoung had locked her keys in the car, in the backseat. 

Sooyoung looked around almost panicked but not quite. Chuu was able to place the exact moment her eyes landed on a stray piece of metal, almost crowbar-shaped, discarded on the ground. “Stand back,” Sooyoung said. Chuu didn’t need to be told twice. 

Chuu maybe hadn’t expected for Sooyoung to outright smash the backseat window in, but that’s what she did. She let out a small noise of surprise, and Sooyoung gave her a look for it. When Sooyoung wasn’t looking, Chuu wrinkled her nose. She should be allowed to be startled. 

Sooyoung refused to answer Chuu’s questions about their destination once they were in the car. But the rain started to let up as they drove, at least - by the time Sooyoung parked the car, it had stopped and the sun was peeking out in the direction from which they’d come. 

She led Chuu through some woods. Chuu noticed a lot of things on that walk, which couldn’t have taken more than five minutes - Sooyoung’s socks, for example. White and barely coming up past her ankles. Before, Chuu had never understood why people in old times were always so upset about women showing their ankles. She thought she had an inkling, now. 

Sooyoung was getting mud on those nice white socks and wasn’t caring a bit about it. Chuu respected this. 

She stopped them short on the banks of a stream. It cut four or five feet deep, and maybe a little wider. A tree fell, in the place they were, across the gap. 

Sooyoung took off her shoes, then her socks. “Lifts are all about balance,” she said, indicating Chuu should remove her shoes as well. “We’re gonna dance on this log, you and I, ‘til I think you have balance enough to get lifted.” 

Chuu balked. “No… what? On the… on the fallen tree? Sooyoung, I need to do lifts, but you don’t need to do this to teach me, do you?” 

“Just do it.” Sooyoung was already on the log, standing perfectly gracefully, one hand extended out to her. 

They danced together for what seemed like eons. Chuu’s feet at first were tentative on the wet, mossy bark, but eventually found purchase. “I was always good with core things,” she boasted to Sooyoung. “I’m good at ice skating, and one time Jungeun and I went paddleboarding and I was great at that too.”

Sooyoung indulged her a smile. “I’m a pretty decent roller skater, myself,” she said. 

They danced there back and forth, holding onto each other, relying on each other. Sooyoung hummed the melody of the song softly at first, and then Chuu joined in and they both sang it louder and louder. 

But Chuu never got tired, not for an instant. She was almost sad when Sooyoung told her, “alright, I think you’ve got it,” and headed back to the car without even looking back to see if Chuu would follow. 

They walked back to the car barefoot. The mud squelched between Chuu’s toes, but she didn’t mind. Her shoes hung from two fingers, swinging back and forth with her socks stuffed inside. When Chuu was four or five her class had gone on a field trip to a river and she’d gotten her feet all muddy like this - that’s how Sooyoung made her feel. Childish, and carefree. 

The ride to the woods had been stilted and silent. The ride back was not so. Sooyoung kept humming the routine song, occasionally variating on it, and Chuu after five or so minutes of this had started to harmonize, filling in the bass line. A couple times their eyes met, and Chuu filled with pride the two times those gazes made Sooyoung smile. 

Because of course Chuu smiled the whole way back. How couldn’t she?

* * *

As Chuu got out of the car, she asked Sooyoung, “so how, um… how does that help Donghan teach me lifts?”

Sooyoung laughed, and - oh, God, her laugh. It was just as musical as the rest of her. “That was only the beginning. Go get your bathing suit, and meet me back here.” 

Chuu ran into the house, gave Jungeun a quick rundown - “Hi I’m going swimming it’s with Sooyoung how was your day ok bye!” - grabbed her peach gingham tankini, changed, pulled her jean shorts back on over it, and raced back to where Sooyoung had parked. Sooyoung awaited her there, in an oversized tee shirt that Chuu would never have expected to live in Sooyoung’s wardrobe ratty and well-loved as it was. 

“So, where are we going?” she asked Sooyoung.

Her answer was simple. “The lake.” 

Sooyoung led her around to the far side, through the trees that border the edges of the resort. There abandoned structures lined the path, collapsing houses built from stone and wood, but they didn’t creep Chuu out at all. Everything about the moment felt right. 

“So how is the lake going to help?” Chuu inquired as they walked. She paused to smack a mosquito off her thigh - she’d put on bug spray earlier, but maybe it hadn’t been enough. Damn mosquitoes. 

“Support,” Sooyoung told her simply. “You won’t be as heavy in the water - I’ll be able to lift you without any effort, and you’ll be able to learn the feeling of it without worrying about me dropping you. Your fear, like it or not, is actually the biggest barrier in learning this. Donghan knows exactly what to do, but if you don’t trust him, you’ll screw up everything for the both of you.” 

“So have me and Donghan do some trust falls,” Chuu quipped. 

Sooyoung laughed. “It’s not that easy. It’s subconscious. Hey, we made it,” she commented after a pause, batting a tree branch aside and revealing this small, secluded beach to Chuu. 

“Pretty out here,” Chuu said. (“Like you,” she did not say.)

“Ha, yeah.” Sooyoung shrugged. “I like it here - I like coming here when I need to recharge. When I feel like making the trek, that is,” she added, making Chuu laugh. 

Chuu stepped out of her jean shorts and waited for Sooyoung to take off her shirt. But Sooyoung went straight in, and as much as Chuu had been looking forward to seeing Sooyoung in a bathing suit she was equally satisfied, she thought, by the sight of Sooyoung with that thin tee shirt clinging to all of her most beautiful places, outlining what Chuu perceived to be a bikini top beneath it. 

“You coming?” she called. Chuu shook off her wonder and waded in. 

The water shocked her with its chill, and she shrieked. Sooyoung laughed at her, called her a wimp and a baby, but it was teasing - like when Jungeun did it. So Chuu didn’t mind. She persisted, getting wet up to her knees and then to her waist and then finally submerging herself. 

“There you are,” smiled Sooyoung. 

Yeah. There Chuu was. In the water with Sooyoung, in bathing suits, every curve showing on them both. 

Sooyoung kept it clinical as she talked Chuu through lifts, through where her hands were going to go and what Chuu would need to do. Chuu listened attentively, or at least tried her best to. 

When Sooyoung lifted her her hands wrapped neatly around Chuu’s waist, and those hands were strong too. Sooyoung corrected her over and over on her form (it wasn’t posture, Chuu thought, if she wasn’t standing up, or was it?), to straighten and to rebalance, and each time Chuu would overcompensate and send them both tipping into the water. 

Chuu was glad that Sooyoung seemed to finally have a sense of humor about it all. She laughed when Chuu fell and got them both submerged, and her long dark hair fell wet into her eyes, coiled like snakes or maybe like spaghetti pasta, shiny and mesmerizing. They kept at this for - oh, Chuu didn’t know. An hour, maybe, probably more. Either way when they got out the sun was much further down the horizon than it had been and they shivered to leave the water even though it wasn’t that cold. Sooyoung didn’t have towels or anything to sit on so they both sat in her car getting it wet. Chuu turned on the radio as they went and they sang along, loud and raucous as the sky began to turn the first vestiges of pink and orange, because Chuu was learning and everything was going to be okay.

* * *

The day of the performance came. (The day Sooyoung was due for the abortion came.) It sunshowered that morning and it made Chuu feel hopeful. 

Jungeun’s parents were only nominally curious about Chuu and her new friends, preferring instead to lay into Jungeun about how she’d begged off a lunch date with Chaewon and Heejin (to go make out with Jinsoul, Chuu knew). The dress that Chuu folded neatly and slid into her backpack was Jungeun’s - rainbow and shimmery, something that made Chuu crack a “gay rights” joke when Jungeun gave it to her. The heels were Yerim’s, and, bless her, the girl had asked no questions of Chuu when she’d asked to borrow them. The makeup, done in Donghan’s cabin five minutes before leaving, was Sooyoung’s. 

She practiced with Donghan the whole day. She was getting pretty good, if she did say so herself - Jinsoul poked her head in briefly and had commended her before having to run off to her training. Sanggyun was off after one, so he came around as well and force-fed Chuu and Donghan an early dinner. 

They left late. The show at the Yes Hotel wasn’t until late. Sanggyun promised he’d stay with Sooyoung, and told Chuu she’d do awesome, and grinned at her. It occurred to Chuu that she liked Sanggyun, that he was a good friend to have around. 

Chuu had maybe had a fantasy of Sooyoung hugging her before leaving, or something, but what Sooyoung did was grasp Chuu’s hands tightly in hers and tell her that she was going to be amazing, and smiled gently when Chuu’s face lit up blush-red. 

“I hope everything goes well tonight for you, too,” Chuu told her earnestly. “That you’re safe.”

“Thank you.” Sooyoung smiled again but it was more sad this time, and accompanied by a sigh. Then, she let go of Chuu’s hands, and turned to hug Donghan. Chuu saw Sooyoung’s whole body shudder as she grasped Donghan tight - she worried that maybe Sooyoung was crying. 

When she let go, Chuu started making promises. 

“I’ll watch my form and stay out of his dance space and keep eye contact and I won’t have spaghetti arms and the lifts will be fine and - oh, damn, what am I forgetting,” she rambled, in an (admittedly successful) attempt to get another drawn smile out of Sooyoung. 

“Keep your elbows up.”

“Yeah,” Chuu swore firmly. “I’ll keep my elbows up.”

And with that, she and Donghan got in the car. 

The ride was oddly silent - they were both nervous, for the dance and for Sooyoung. Donghan’s car was newer than Sooyoung’s, felt like something Chuu’s mom would drive almost, and didn’t have the charm of a staticky radio or broken back seat window on the left side (Sooyoung had had to Shop-vac the glass out of her car, she’d told Chuu). 

She spent their backstage time reapplying her lipstick. Donghan spent their backstage time tapping his fingers against the staff lockers - because that’s where they were, in the dining staff locker room. Chuu ran her hands up and down the sequins of Jungeun’s dress and tapped the points of Yerim’s heels against the floor and the two of them made an oddly sympathisch rhythm together. That rhythm helped them both keep sane. 

And then it was time. 

The lights in that auditorium weren’t that bright, not really, but they blinded Chuu anyway, caught her off guard, enough so that Donghan had to nudge her a little to walk forward and to curtsy to the assembled crowd. 

Step step step, out, turn, switch hands, half-turn changeover look  _ deep _ into Donghan’s eyes like she’s full of passion for him. Chuu heard Sooyoung talking her through the routine - 

and then she didn’t anymore. She knew the thing rote. She just let herself dance. 

She did a damn good job, too. Her mind was only there, in the moment, taking it one step at a time, one foot in front of the other and then behind and then crossing over. She was like this when she sang at school, too - everything, all the performance notes, slid quietly from her mind without slamming the door too loudly, and she was single-mindedly focused on each and every second as it happened and nothing else. 

Or at least she  _ was _ doing a good job, until sixteen measures before the lift Donghan sent her twirling towards the far edge of the stage just like they’d practiced and the stage lights lit on one Kim Yongguk walking around the periphery with a drink in his hands, wearing a smarmy, pale-colored suit. 

Shock ran through her. She didn’t think he’d noticed her, she really didn’t, but she nevertheless faltered and Donghan had to yank her up out of a dip extra hard. She was sure he knew  _ something _ was wrong, her eyes felt wide and panicked, but she knew he had no idea what.

And then all of a sudden it was time for the lift and it was coming and it was coming and it was closer and oh god oh fuck she can’t do this. 

She laughed awkwardly, grimacing a little at Donghan’s baffled look as he paraded her around the stage in the space in the music where the lift was supposed to go. But Chuu couldn’t find it in her to stress about the lift, because  _ Yongguk was there _ . 

Chuu tried her best to keep her head down the rest of the performance - because Yongguk would know that she wasn’t supposed to be there, would know that something was up with Sooyoung, and she couldn’t have that. She refused to let that happen. She barely even looked up after the bow. The rest of the performance blew by her in a haze. That golden-clear focus she’d had? It was lost. 

In the locker room, though, Donghan didn’t seem too bothered. “You did great, Chuu, you did awesome! It’s okay that you got nervous with the lift, you played it off really well actually, you shouldn’t have been embarrassed! After that you kept looking down.”

Chuu sighed. “Yongguk is here.”

Donghan sat straight up. “What?”

“He was there. In the audience. I didn’t want him to see me. I noticed him right before the lift, that’s why I didn’t-”

“You know what?  _ Fuck  _ Yongguk,” Donghan proclaimed loudly. “You did so great, Chuu, I can’t wait to go back and tell everyone how fucking awesome you were.” 

Chuu blushes very hotly at the praise. 

The ride back was a triumph. The two of them bathed in their pride and their glory the whole way home - they blasted the radio as Chuu pulled on a sweatshirt and pajama shorts in the backseat, discarding Jungeun’s dress into a heap in the duffle bag. She hadn’t brought extra shoes, though - she would either have to go barefoot, or Yerim’s heels would have to do. She could be barefoot in Donghan’s car, she knew that much, she thought as she rested her heels onto the back of the passenger seat. It started to thunder and neither of them even cared. They were too high off their own joy. 

They got out of the car and laughed and whooped, and then were instantly sobered by Sanggyun running up to their car, face wan. 

“It’s Sooyoung,” he said. 

Well, the thing about highs is that they always come crashing down. 

* * *

The three of them ran through the rapidly muddying grounds, Chuu barefoot, dress and heels abandoned in Donghan’s backseat. All that pulsed in her now was fear fear fear, the adrenaline and success from the performance left behind with the clothes she’d worn.

The rain seemed oddly appropriate, now. 

“He was a sham,” Sanggyun told them, gasping for breath as they stood on the porch of Sooyoung’s cabin, afraid to go in. “And he left and took the money - well, he did do what he came to do but I’m not sure she’s better off because of it.”

Donghan slammed open the door. 

The sound startled Sooyoung, who lay in her bed, blind fear and pain etched across those beautiful features. 

Chuu’s hands flew to her mouth. Sooyoung was  _ bloody _ , all across her abdomen. 

Something terrible clicked inside her, and that was that she loved Sooyoung. What a horrible way to learn this, to see a woman laid cut open bleeding all over her white bedsheets, and to think,  _ I love her _ . 

She couldn’t bear this. She just couldn’t, Chuu thought, as Donghan bolted to Sooyoung’s side and grabbed her hand and Sooyoung grabbed it back, Sooyoung holding too weak and Donghan holding too tight Chuu was sure, and he whispered fast, terrified reassurances to her. 

Another thing clicked for Chuu, and that was that Jungeun was there. “Chuu, honey, oh god,” her friend said, and Chuu all of a sudden found herself needing Jungeun to support herself, she fell into Jungeun’s arms and thank god Jungeun caught her. Jinsoul was there too, smelling like chlorine and looking like worry, an arm on Jungeun’s shoulder and a love bite on her neck. 

Everything was swirling, like an effect on TV or like one of those optical illusions, and Chuu felt like she was staring at everything through a blizzard. This couldn’t be happening. Everything had been going to be okay. She and Donghan had been on top of the world.

“Jungeun,” she said. 

“We’re going to the porch,” Jungeun said, steering Chuu out. Jinsoul didn’t follow. Neither did Sanggyun. 

Chuu needed to scream. So she screamed. She screamed into Jungeun’s shoulder and then she extricated herself and threw herself against the flimsy wooden porch railing and sobbed up to the stars and then she collapsed and she just sat there on the porch, reeling. She was afraid for Sooyoung.

“I don’t think she’s going to be okay,” she told Jungeun in a very small voice. “That looked really bad.” 

Jungeun appeared to be making up her mind about something. Chuu wasn’t sure - how could she be sure of anything, right now, when she could fall from the top of the world to the depths of despair in mere moments? 

Jungeun had made up her mind, it seemed, because she stared at Chuu for a moment and then she ran off, into the rain. Chuu called after her - “Jungeun-!” - but Jungeun, of one mind, didn’t look back. 

Chuu sat there on the porch alone, until Sanggyun came out to join her. 

“You seem so calm,” she told him. “Even Jinsoul looked rattled.” 

Sanggyun sighed. “Well.” he admitted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.” 

He didn’t elaborate. Chuu didn’t ask. Some things were just not worth knowing. 

Sanggyun sat with Chuu for a long time out there, or so it seemed. He put his arm around her and they sat on the porch steps and listened to the rain come torrenting down and tried to pretend they didn’t know what was happening inside. 

Someone came running back eventually, and that someone was Jungeun, and that Chuu knew because she’d known Jungeun for so long of course she could recognize her silhouette. 

She pulled Sanggyun off the porch before whoever Jungeun had brought could take notice of them. It was Jungeun’s father, Chuu realized with a start, who was a surgeon. 

Jungeun had done something brave. 

Chuu and Jungeun had just enough time to lock eyes before Chuu and Sanggyun raced away from the cabin as fast as they could, running around the back side so no one else would notice them. As soon as they saw the door close, Sanggyun left her. He squeezed her hands tight, holding them the same way Sooyoung had held them before Chuu had left tonight, and went back to his cabin. 

And so Chuu did the same. She walked straight into Jungeun’s family’s cabin, because in their haste Jungeun and her father had left the door unlocked. She took off her sweatshirt to towel off her feet, so she didn’t track mud into the kitchen, and walked into the house in her bra and her pajama shorts. Once in the room she shared with Jungeun, she stripped, and pulled on a pajama shirt and changed her underwear and put on some socks, and then she got under her covers and pretended to herself that she would be able to sleep.

* * *

Jungeun came in hours later. It woke Chuu up when the door slammed. 

“My dad’s mad,” she said, sitting on the edge of her bed and looking at Chuu while she took her shoes off. “Where’s my dress?”

“In Donghan’s car,” Chuu told her. Jungeun grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’ll get it back from him. I have to get Yerim’s heels too.” 

The two of them sat in near-silence while Jungeun stripped. She walked over to her dresser wearing just her underwear and a pair of wet socks. Chuu was pretty sure it was Jungeun’s days of the week underwear, wearing the wrong day because Jungeun did that to be petty. 

“Sooyoung’s gonna be fine, by the way,” Jungeun said, while Chuu lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to figure out a way to ask about Sooyoung. “My dad… I don’t know, fixed her or whatever. She’s fine.” 

“But he’s mad.” 

“Yeah.” Jungeun scoffed. “He knows about Jinsoul now. He’s not gonna let me get caught out of his sight until we leave.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You know what the funniest part is?” she continued. “He kept saying, oh I hope you haven’t gotten Chuu caught up in this.” Jungeun laughs, but the laugh is sour. Chuu hopes that Jungeun isn’t mad. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Chuu tried to tell her, but she worried it fell flat. That it didn’t reach far enough. 

Chuu saw Jungeun shake her head. “No,” her friend sighed, “I did.”

She said nothing more. And then there were two of them, staring up at the ceiling, wishing they could sleep, and not sleeping, together. 

* * *

Chuu was made to supervise Jungeun by Jungeun’s parents, without Jungeun’s parents ever telling her that that was what she was doing. But Chuu knew. She knew that there was a reason she had to go along to brunch with Chaewon and Heejin and, terrifyingly, Yongguk. She knew that that reason was her, even if Jungeun’s parents didn’t know that. 

Yerim had the bad luck to be on a dining shift during the brunch. Chuu smiled at her, because that’s what Chuu always did, and engaged her in pleasant and light conversation because she may have been spending her time with Donghan and Sooyoung and all the rest, but she’d picked up some skills from hanging around Chaewon, Jungeun, and Heejin too. Jungeun was oddly silent, and Yerim, bless her, picked up on the fact that maybe she shouldn’t talk to Jungeun like she recognized her, and Chaewon and Heejin impressed Chuu by being polite to Yerim too. 

Yongguk wasn’t very polite, but Yerim didn’t seem to mind. Chuu got a sinking feeling that Yerim had some kind of crush on Yongguk. 

Chuu talked and talked, getting along well with Chaewon and chatting vaguely around the topic of “what did everyone do last night”, trying to check if Yongguk had seen her face at the Yes Hotel. She didn’t get much of a reaction out of him, so she figured she and Donghan (and Sooyoung) were off the hook. She also pretended to be interested in Heejin’s story about the pretty staff girl she’d seen fixing a roof the day before, and then was actually interested once Yerim caught a bit of that conversation and said, “Oh, that’s my friend Hyunjin, she’s very nice!”. 

Looked like Jungeun wouldn’t be the only one with a staff girlfriend. Heejin, glitzy as she was, seemed genuine about wanting to pursue this girl - “she looked like Chou Tzuyu. You know, the movie star?” - and didn’t seem like she’d want to discard her the way Yongguk probably thought about discarding the staff members who didn’t have trust funds. 

She managed to catch Donghan on his break - she knew his schedule, how could she not by now? - and he promised to meet her the next day so he could give her Jungeun’s dress and Yerim’s heels back. It occurred to Chuu that Yerim hadn’t asked about her heels earlier. 

This kept up for a few days. A few days in which Chuu gave everyone their respective clothes back, and went swimming a few times, and started to actually for real make friends with Chaewon. A few days in which she spent far too much time around Yongguk, and heard Jungeun’s dad talk too many times about how the local staff had no manners and couldn’t do their jobs. A few days in which Jungeun and her dad yelled at each other a lot. 

Sooyoung was getting better, though. It was August and she was up and walking around and being sarcastic just as she’d been, although her dance classes had been called off - apparently Mr Jeong had believed the lie about her having a family emergency. As it was, though, Mr Jeong was not a very patient or lenient man, and so Sooyoung was a bit on thin ice. 

Whenever Chuu could get away she was at Sooyoung’s cabin, chatting with her and with whoever else happened to be there - sometimes Jinsoul, sometimes Sanggyun, sometimes Donghan. Those times grew more and more frequent as Jungeun and her dad cooled down - there was still fury in that vacation house, but it was eased by the involved parties refusing to talk to each other. 

It was during one of those times that Chuu, Sooyoung, and Donghan happened to hear a commotion outside. 

Chuu stuck her head out first. It was Yongguk, and Yerim. 

Donghan stuck his head out second, and muttered something about how Yongguk was a bastard. 

“No, you’re just annoying. I want you to leave me alone.” 

“I thought you liked me.” Yerim looked genuinely hurt, and as innocent and young as she really was - two years younger than Chuu. Her eyes started to well up. “You told me you liked me.”

“Doesn’t mean I wanted you,” he curtly told her. Yerim, to her credit, seemed to be refusing to let herself cry. 

That’s when Sooyoung came to the door. She pushed it open, startling Chuu and Donghan into stepping onto the porch and alerting Yongguk and Yerim’s attention. 

“Would much rather have someone like your vacationer friend there,” he said. He meant Chuu. She filled up with her own kind of fury. How dare he lead Yerim on, and how dare he say such things about her!

Sooyoung evidently felt that same fury, because she stormed past Donghan and Chuu - and then past Yerim - and punched Yongguk in the face. While he was still reeling, Sooyoung spat at him and then stalked her way up the path towards the woods. 

“Oh, you’re so dead,” Yongguk promised darkly, glaring at Donghan and Chuu. He ran away himself, like the coward he was - Chuu was sure Donghan would have started whaling on him, too - and that’s when Yerim finally let herself cry. 

Donghan wrinkled his nose. “You go after Sooyoung,” he said eventually. “I’ll make sure she’s okay.” 

Chuu felt bad about leaving Yerim, but she trusted Donghan. She gave Yerim’s shoulder a little squeeze as she passed, though. 

She found Sooyoung sitting against a tree, breaking twigs into little tiny bits and throwing the pieces at the ground with a vitriol Chuu had never seen before. Chuu went to sit next to her. 

“I hate that man,” she told Chuu. 

“I think now we all do,” Chuu admitted.

“No,” Sooyoung exhaled. “You don’t get it. He’s the one who - well - the baby was his.” Oh. “And it fucks with me that he’s been leading on girls as young as Yerim - he wouldn’t  _ do _ anything with her, she’s so young, but he’s still just an asshole and it makes me mad. And he shouldn’t have said that about you either.” 

She huffed as Chuu let that information process. 

Sooyoung was angry, but she was angry for reason, and it occurred to Chuu that Sooyoung was  _ hot _ when she was angry. She looked fierce. 

Chuu leaned over and kissed her. 

That kiss felt like original sin. 

There were really no other words for it. What Chuu had words for was the moment where Sooyoung pulled away. Sooyoung had kissed her back (Sooyoung had kissed back!) but after a time (not long a time enough) she pulled back, and that hurt Chuu’s heart a lot. She wanted to go back to that moment, because after the kiss was over Chuu realized it felt a lot like performing. Breathing in the moment, moment by moment, singularly focused on that and on nothing else. 

“Chuu, we can’t do this,” Sooyoung whispered. 

“Why not?” Chuu whispered back. She was in free fall again, same way she’d been after the performance, driving back up and seeing Sanggyun’s pale face awaiting them. 

Sooyoung turned away from her. “Because I’m me, and you’re you.”

Chuu didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. 

“Chuu, you’re a vacationer. After this - I know you said you don’t have your eye on a school, but you’re gonna go back to your life, and after summer I’m gonna go back to mine. We’re just too different.”

“We don’t have to be-”

“You don’t want to be with someone like me!” Sooyoung exploded - well, she couldn’t call it exploding, it was too quiet for that. But something analogous to that. “This could never work. You’re going to go to your nice quiet college and find yourself a nice girlfriend just like you and I’m going to go back to the city and dance because that’s all people ever want from me. They only ever want to look and to touch.” 

Chuu realized that this was probably less about her and more about Sooyoung. 

“No one ever wants to listen,” Sooyoung murmured, not even to Chuu but to herself. She sounded near breaking. 

Chuu took a deep breath and assembled her courage. 

“But I do.”

Before she could finish Sooyoung held up a hand. “Yeah, you think you could. But imagine going home and telling your mom you’re with someone like me. Imagine Jungeun’s parents knowing. You’d never say a word, you wouldn’t want to be that kind of public with me, and you know it.”

Chuu knew she had nothing to say to that, and so she didn’t pretend that she did. 

She stood up and she walked back down the path and she left Sooyoung there, in the woods. She sent a meaningful look to Donghan, and then did what she should have done in the first place - she pulled Yerim close to her, and told the younger girl that everything was going to be okay. 

* * *

Well. That was the end of it, thought Chuu. She’d shot her shot, and Sooyoung wasn’t interested. Well, she  _ was _ interested, but convinced it would never work. 

She did have a point, Chuu considered uneasily. As brave as she thought she was, she could never imagine telling her mother that she was with someone who danced for a living - like Sooyoung had said, what was going to happen next was that she’d decide on a college and meet some nice boy or girl or person at that college and settle down to a life of upper-middle-class white-collar domestic bliss. Whenever she’d fantasized about her future before, that’s what she’d seen. 

But it was proving hard to get Sooyoung out of her head. Every time she lay in bed thinking about being held, it was Sooyoung doing the holding, as much as Chuu tried to envision someone blonde or someone being the little spoon or that someone being a boy, even - her mind always drifted back to the way she might feel in Sooyoung’s arms. 

Chuu tried to ignore it. She hung out with Chaewon, helping to orchestrate elaborate schemes that allowed Heejin to get to know Hyunjin and for Jungeun and Jinsoul to meet - often at the same time. Chaewon was sweet, with a nice smile and a high, brittle voice and doll-like features. And she was a good friend. She hung out with Sanggyun, and got to know his and Donghan’s friends better - Hyunbin and Taehyun, and hearing about the ever-elusive Kenta, who didn’t actually work at the resort but worked with the rest of them in the off-season. She hung out with Yerim sometimes - although now Yerim mostly preferred to third-wheel Jinsoul and Jungeun, she’d made another friend among the staff, a fierce-faced girl named Hyejoo who, despite looking intimidating, was actually quite nice. Hyejoo also liked to dance, and Chuu taught Hyejoo their routine, remembering when Sooyoung had taught her. 

She and Chaewon and Jungeun were at brunch. Heejin was supposed to meet them too, but she was late. Jungeun and Chaewon were deep in an intense discussion about what they wanted to do for the talent show, which Chuu had heard from Donghan was mostly for the fun of the vacationers, but the staff got to do a number at the end. Chuu was not that interested in hearing about the talent show. Sooyoung and Donghan choreographed the staff act at the end, Donghan had told her, and Chuu was trying her best not to think about Sooyoung so she tuned out of the talent show discussion. 

Heejin arrived, seeming rather concerned. “Jungeun - did you hear? That Kim Yongguk said he got his wallet stolen - said it was one of the staff that did it.” Chuu made a face. Fucking Yongguk. “Said it was one of the dancers.”

Oh, shit. 

“Sooyoung?” Chuu asked, very pronounced, trying her darnedest to pretend like the name didn’t mean much to her. Jungeun’s furtive look towards her told Chuu that her efforts had failed. 

“Ah, no,” Heejin clarified. “The guy. Think Hyunjin said his name was Donghan. Apparently someone had shit stolen at some dance gig the dancers had been to as well so there was, I don’t know, evidence or whatever. Hyunjin and her friends are all upset because they don’t think Donghan would do something like that, but from what she said I don’t think they can do anything because Mr Jeong has already decided to fire him. And to say that they can’t do the staff number anymore. Yongguk’s gonna do it now,” Heejin snickered. “Hyunjin says he’s a terrible dancer.”

Chuu knocked over her water in her haste to stand up. “I have to go.” 

* * *

Donghan was nowhere to be found, and could she blame him?, but she did find Sooyoung. Curled up in an angry fetal position against the wall of her cabin. 

“This is all my fault,” Sooyoung told her dully, after seeing Chuu come in, stricken. 

“No…” 

“Because I punched him,” she pressed on. “He knows we’re best friends, he knows that the best way to get to me - to make an example to all us on the staff - is to hurt him. Donghan… I don’t have a lot of friends here. I don’t know how everyone else is going to look at me. I know they know.” 

“Sooyoung.” Chuu said firmly. 

“Chuu, don’t-”

“Sooyoung, I have a plan to get back at Yongguk.”

It was a damn good plan if Chuu did say so herself. She’d come up with it on the way here, fuming. If the best way to get back at Sooyoung for something was to hurt Donghan, well, the best way to hurt Yongguk was to hurt his pride. 

Sooyoung was skeptical, but Chuu managed to talk her into choreographing a separate number for the staff, to switch out the track Yongguk had selected with a new one, convincing her that the staff’s collective hatred of Yongguk would galvanize them more than any resentment they might have towards Sooyoung. Yongguk - and the other trust fund boys, there were five or six of them in total - were near-universally hated for their condescension and the privilege that they radiated, worse than the normal vacationers. Sooyoung herself suggested that they bring out Donghan as a surprise, to especially smack Yongguk and Mr Jeong in the face. Chuu loved this suggestion. 

But eventually their mad planning devolved into silence, and they lay on their stomachs on Sooyoung’s rug. Chuu wished so greatly that she and Sooyoung could be together. This felt like something girlfriends would do, just laying there and ignoring the world with each other. 

“You said the other day that you felt like no one ever wanted to hear you,” she said into the silence. Sooyoung tensed. 

“But Sooyoung, I do. I loved hearing you chew me out for all my mistakes when I was learning and I love hearing you be sarcastic to Donghan and I love the way you told me good luck before we left. I just… the sound of your voice, Sooyoung, it’s beautiful. 

“And I know that when you said listening you meant something deeper, and I know that it probably doesn’t look like I can stand up and fight for what I want, but I want to be with you, Sooyoung, and I’m ready to be brave. I might not come back here again, but one of the colleges I was looking at is near here. I could go there and come see you on the weekends, and there, Sooyoung, I know I could tell people proudly about my amazing, beautiful, dancer girlfriend.”

She said it again. “I’m ready to be brave.” 

Maybe it was just Chuu’s imagination, but she thought she saw Sooyoung’s eyes shining. “Let’s choreograph ourselves some revenge,” she declared. “Then we’ll talk.” 

It wasn’t a no. 

* * *

Chuu had been right, that the staff hated Yongguk more than they might ever hate Sooyoung, and so their revenge dance idea went over wonderfully. Chuu came to a few rehearsals and everyone she talked to buzzed with excitement - Jinsoul, Yerim, Sanggyun, Hyunjin and Hyejoo and Hyunbin and Taehyun, and of course Donghan who had to be snuck in and out by Kenta (Chuu was greatly excited the first time he’d shown up, because she was finally putting a face to the name) but who was wholly enthusiastic nonetheless. 

Most of them came tired and left even more tired because they were rehearsing two things back to back, but Chuu enjoyed hearing about all the ways they were making Yongguk suffer in the other practices. Most of them just were deliberately slow with the choreography, but Sanggyun, Jinsoul, and Hyunjin had started pulling pranks on top of that. This delighted Chuu to no end. 

The night of the showcase came, and it appeared Jungeun and her father had worked things out, much to Chuu’s relief. Chuu sat in another dress borrowed from Jungeun, this one red, and in her own shoes this time, lodged into a corner in the room and sat between Jungeun and her mother. She bit her lip all the way through Jungeun’s and Chaewon’s performance, and Heejin’s performance, and through a number of mediocre performances by the various other vacationers. Jungeun and her parents had wanted to know why Chuu hadn’t sung something for the showcase, and Chuu didn’t have a good answer as to why not. There was simply too much on her mind. 

Not even Jungeun knew about their secret project - it was just Chuu and the regular staff who knew. Yongguk and his quintet of fellow smarmy Ivy League boys sauntered up to the stage, greasy smile on his face, and he started to introduce himself and the number. Chuu waited in anticipation, hoping Taehyun backstage had managed to switch the tapes. 

* * *

The look on Yongguk’s face was priceless, when the music Chuu and Sooyoung had selected started playing through the speakers. The look on his face was even better when Sooyoung walked in from the back of the room, leading the rest of the staff. The look on his face was the best when Donghan walked in, last. Mr Jeong also looked livid. Chuu basked in it. 

She and Sooyoung and everyone else, they’d done this, together. 

Jungeun elbowed her. “You knew about this?”

Chuu grinned back. “It was my idea.” 

Jinsoul approached their table and offered a hand to Jungeun. Jungeun looked her father dead in the eye as she stood gracefully and took Jinsoul’s arm, and Jinsoul led her in the dance, talking her through the rhythm. Jungeun, who was a dancer, didn’t take long to pick it up, and Chuu grinned to see Jungeun and Jinsoul dancing together. 

She looked around and saw Heejin and Hyunjin dancing, Yerim and Hyejoo, Donghan taking the lead just as he should have been. She didn’t see Sooyoung, and this baffled her. 

“Come on out of the corner,” said Sooyoung, voice coming out of nowhere. “You shine too bright to be there.” 

Chuu sure felt like she was shining as she stood and let Sooyoung take her onto the dance floor. She knew this dance by heart and joined into the choreography without a second thought. It was fun, and she was holding Sooyoung’s hand and showing to the world that yes, she and Sooyoung were together. Chuu always smiled big, but when she looked over at Sooyoung, she saw Sooyoung smiling real big, too. 

“You never did the lift, did you,” Sooyoung said to her as they neared the climax of the dance. 

“At the hotel gig? No, I didn’t,” Chuu answered, baffled. 

Sooyoung motioned to the dancers nearest them to clear out. That was when Chuu realized that they were in the center of the room. Sooyoung danced backwards, ending up directly in front of the stage. 

Confidence and triumph welled up inside of her as she ran to Sooyoung. This time, she didn’t lose her cool - she let herself be lifted into the air. 

Chuu looked down at Sooyoung and felt like she was soaring.

* * *

_ I’ll tell you something - this could be love _

_ Because I’ve had the time of my life _

**Author's Note:**

> brief notes:  
> -i'm aware that i kinda shoehorned choerry in here with no real plot relevance and i'm sorry i tried ok  
> -im not great at writing love stories but i tried ok please dont leave nasty comments about how it doesnt seem like theyre really in love bc ive gotten those before and i Dont Like Them   
> -chuu going by chuu here is a reference to the original movie's mc being called baby and the line "...and it never occurred to me to mind"  
> -yes i AM a jin longguo anti no i do NOT take constructive criticism  
> -did also have to fudge some of the movie's plot points, this is not nearly a good adaptation lmao please dont come for me,,,  
> ok so anyway you should find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/vivasunn) and [tumblr](everykissbeginswith.tumblr.com) and also listen to the [bomb ass playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1L1FrlCh5UAHvovlg3PCfN?si=EbhW1Q_jTlOfpG1LuisvmQ) i listened to while writing this


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